Often rebuked, yet always back ret… To those first feelings that were… And leaving busy chase of wealth a… For idle dreams of things which ca… To—day, I will seek not the shado…
Heavy hangs the raindrop From the burdened spray; Heavy broods the damp mist On uplands far away; Heavy looms the dull sky,
How clear she shines! How quietly I lie beneath her guardian light; While heaven and earth are whisper… “ Tomorrow, wake, but, dream to—ni… Yes, Fancy, come, my Fairy love!
The day is done, the winter sun Is setting in its sullen sky; And drear the course that has been… And dim the hearts that slowly die… No star will light my coming night…
How beautiful the Earth is still To thee–how full of Happiness; How little fraught with real ill Or shadowy phantoms of distress; How Spring can bring thee glory y…
The sun has set, and the long gras… Waves dreamily in the evening wind… And the wild bird has flown from t… In some warm nook a couch to find. In all the lonely landscape round
Riches I hold in light esteem; And Love I laugh to scorn; And lust of fame was but a dream That vanished with the morn: And if I pray, the only prayer
Well, some may hate and some may s… And some may quite forget thy name… But my sad heart must ever mourn Thy ruined hopes, they blighted fa… 'Twas thus I thought, an hour ago…
High waving heather 'neath stormy… Midnight and moonlight and bright… Darkness and glory rejoicingly ble… Earth rising to heaven and heaven… Man’s spirit away from its drear d…
Come hither, child—who gifted thee With power to touch that string so… How darest thou rouse up thoughts… Thoughts that I would—but cannot… Nay, chide not, lady; long ago
How beautiful the earth is still, To thee —how full of happiness! How little fraught with real ill, Or unreal phantoms of distress! How spring can bring thee glory, y…
For him who struck thy foreign str… I ween this heart has ceased to ca… Then why dost thou such feelings b… To my sad spirit—old Guitar? It is as if the warm sunlight
Tell me, tell me, smiling child, What the past is like to thee? “An Autumn evening soft and mild With a wind that sighs mournfully.… Tell me, what is the present hour?
Death! that struck when I was mos… In my certain faith of joy to be — Strike again, Time’s withered bra… From the fresh root of Eternity! Leaves, upon Time’s branch, were…
Come, the wind may never again Blow as now it blows for us; And the stars may never again shin… Long before October returns, Seas of blood will have parted us;